


Death Stranding

by JeromeSankara



Category: Death Stranding (Video Games), Norman Reedus - Fandom, PT (Video Games), The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Cesarean Section, Death, Infant Death, Laboratories, M/M, Mpreg, Rape, Rickyl Writers' Group, Rough Oral Sex, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2018-10-12 12:18:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10490736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JeromeSankara/pseuds/JeromeSankara
Summary: The world has fallen long ago. Armies have crumbled with their cities, and the world is coated in black and red. Oceans are poisoned, the sky permanently gray, it's the end of the world. For the humans, at least. Only the supreme have survived, adapted to this new world that they had a hand in ruining, cursing it with black oil. The Tainted. Their unique ability to connect and control left them to either control the world, or bring it to ruin. Now in a world war where the Tainted battle with tooth and claw, their numbers have been dwindling. There is now only one Omega left, and one rule.Never disobey the alpha.





	1. Prologue

Stainless steel doors stood in succession, and a blare sounded when one after another were lifted to allow passage. There was a reason to the heavy restriction. There were only a handful of names that had been granted the ability to pass through these doors. Anyone else who did not meet the standards and attempting to break in were shot on sight.

Not exactly a shocking theory any longer in this world.

Thick, black slime formed into bootprints, the only stain against pristine floor kept immaculate for a reason. It would be within minutes that it would be wiped away, sterilized, inspected and sterilized again. A single strand of disease will undo years and years of work. They just couldn't have that, now could they...

The gun held proudly in his arms barely twitched as the tall figure passed through each doorway, always on constant alert along with each guard at each doorway. With every proceeding step, he had allowed a little pride into his dark soul. Everything had been going so smoothly this time... Their base was protected, and no expense had been spared in medical technology.

Everything was finally coming together... If only he could see it that way.

A pinpad installed into the wall was his final boundary between him and his prize, and the eight digit code was tapped in with little resistance. He was given the approving beep, and finally, the final doors opened up.

They revealed an expansive room, circular much like a control center. There were rows of monitors, each with screens blaring information that he didn't need to know any longer. He had people for that. All he needed was the end result.

Men in white coats were bustling to and fro, typing commands into monitors and scrolling through maddening amounts of data. Only the most prestigious were allowed into this room, having scoured the ruined world for those who remained and had not been maddened by the destruction. He would claim that he was lucky, but there was no such thing.

Only constant control.

His eyes scanned across the circular rows, growing smaller and smaller until they surrounded a glass room placed in the center. The panes of glass were all that separated him from his project, but being nearly half a foot thick. It was designed to withstand a rocket without much more than a scratch. It was both to keep it from getting out than anyone else getting in.

They had suffered through enough of those issues to learn fast.

"Commander Mikkelsen!"

The recognition of his presence made every form halt in its place, glancing up with either alarm, panic or eagerness for praise. A murmur of his rank and title swept through them, along with the bowing of heads and exposing their neck in a sign of submission. God he loved his job sometimes. Made him want to puff out his chest, but he settled with a smirk.

Nearly silvering hair was brushed back quietly, as if to stir up his scent just enough to make the others uncomfortable, until he gave the slight nod to let them continue their work. He could practically feel their relief pouring off of their bodies, and they seemed to move just that little bit quicker. Good and efficient.

"del Toro." It was all he had to bark out before he spotted the heavy set man rushing his way up the stairs. He tried to be patient for him... It was a long way from the center at his post, and he wanted his beta to be well fed... But his patience was already wearing thin. All he had was tap his foot and man seemed to gain the idea of hurrying.

By the time he managed to greet his commander, he was faintly winded. The bow of his presence was more of hunching over, but he would accept it. For now. "Status," was all he had to bark until the man stood back up straight. The golden pin on his suit breast was glistening with its own pride, perfectly aligned. They wouldn't dare do anything except perfection.

"Stable. He has grown accustomed to his new surroundings, and has been accepting meals again. We are tracking his heat, and it can come at any time, sir."

Good.

"I will stay until we can confirm proper conception. I will not stand for a repeat of last time." The tone shifted, turning icy as he glared at the man from the corner of his eyes, the gentle browns turning wicked in just a moment. That had cost them precious time, not to mention a wasted effort had cost them an expansion in their ranks. It was why they had moved all their equipment into this room, even if it meant cutting down on living quarters.

Momentarily freezing del Toro was well enough for him to step past the beta, even as he seemed to flinch at the sudden movement. "S-sir, we don't believe it is a good idea for interaction, he is still- sir!" There was no use in stopping him now, not when he had his mind set to seeing his project.

The workers seemed to stiffen up as he passed them, all with growing worry about how this would all play out. Some sprinted to their monitors, typing in commands to bring up screens of vitals and controls. All this would do was upset the subject and create more damage than good, but none could protest. That gun in his arms would make quick work of any complaints.

The smirk slowly crawled its way to a grin, flashing sharpened teeth as the stairs led down to the glass container. There he was... His little toy, and fixed up just for him.

He sat deep within the corner, curled up into a ball. Patches scattered across his body to track the vitals as closely as they can, but they simply couldn't know what was going on within his head. His sides moved just slightly with his breath, ribs pushing against the flesh marked with bandages and stitching. They had only just managed to calm him down after sedation, and was still coming out of it.

The figure was naked as he sat, his arms pulled around his knees and pushing his face deep within the chasm it created. Tuffs of ragged brown hair was all they could see of him other than the tattoos that littered his skin. Demons fighting across his back, names of loved ones, they were scattered across him almost as numerous as the scars.

He was completely exposed to them.

Furnishing the glass room was simple; a bed within the middle. Food had been partially eaten off of the tray that was set just outside the metal door, the only non-glass surface of the walls. There were vents in the floor, allowing in fresh flows of oxygen as well as heat just in case the subject felt cold. They couldn't allow him to cover his body, not when they had to monitor him so closely.

Brown eyes grew ever wider as the commander slowly circled the enclosure, his hand touching the glass now and then as if it didn't exist between them. The man did not stir from his corner. He would not hear a thing from the outside, nor would they hear from the inside unless the speakers were amplified. It had been careless muting that had caused more than enough accidents, but they simply couldn't bear to listen to his constant mumbling.

Only once the commander had circled once did he return to the corner where his pet sat, back pressed against the walls as if he could make himself disappear. The grin nearly split his cheeks at this point as he knelt down to the floor, pressing his hand against the glass. He must still be asleep... So adorable to think he could escape this world in his dreams.

Tap. Tap.

He stirred, just slightly at first. His arms tightened around his nude body, pushing his face deeper against his skin. But the tapping only continued to stir his beast into awakening.

Tap tap tap.

The head lifted up now, bags sagging beneath such amazing blue eyes that stole his breath away whenever he gazed into them. They were always so full of... hatred. Such anger, torment even. And he would not be disappointed as his pet slowly began to be aware of his surroundings. It was slow, like a newborn fawn just making its way into the world. The shaggy hair shifted with his head, blue eyes blinking away the sedation. It was nearly the only way to make him sleep.

The room held a collective breath as they all watched the subject slowly slip to his knees, wavering just slightly with weariness. He leaned forward with such carefulness as if his own body was made of porcelain, gathering his senses one at a time.

...Tap.

He just couldn't wait any longer.

Almost immediately the figure jumped, leaping up to his feet at the slightest sound. His head snapped about, eyes wide as he recognized the faces of spectators and workers alike. His stance nearly collapsed with realization, but it wasn't until he spun around to stare into the face he despised the most that he finally got the reaction he wanted.

Time stopped for just a moment, the grin somehow stretching farther as he finally looked deep into ice blue eyes. He gazed at the ragged brown hair, the unkept facial hair, the bruising under his eyes... And then the fury.

The specimen pounced at the glass, fists smashing against the walls that imprisoned her. His teeth was bared in a way that made the others feel chills down their spine, to know that such a species managed to retort against a rank as high as their alpha.

But to Mads...

It was entrancing.

He watched the jaws snap open and shut with curses and snarls, the water that seeped into the corners of his eyes. He just couldn't help but gaze across the nude body he had mapped out within his mind countless times. Even when so weak and helpless, the broad shoulders were entrancing, biceps twitching with muscles begging to be used. His chest heaved with every breath, only expanding the torso that was exposed to him, even if partially covered in bandages. They were tight around his waist, and only now could he see the thin trails of blood seeping through. His little pet was working himself up just a tad too much...

His men worked behind him, spitting out commands to each other that he had memorized many times over. And just as he had hoped, the man suddenly recoiled from the wall. His jaws were stretched in a scream he wouldn't care to listen to as he dropped, body twitching violently at the electricity that now jolted throughout his body. It wouldn't be enough to kill, of course... Just enough to get the point across.

Fascination was all he could feel as the body jerked and twitched, at first frantic and thrashing but soon settling to the occasional twitching of muscles overstimulated. A sweat now ran across the toned body, dripping down across the skin and settling onto the ground. The chest heaved again, but with pants to try to keep air within his body that had been rudely shocked out.

All this time he was forced to face his torturer, blue eyes stretched wide in a silent plea of a single word.

_Why._

The smile and the slight tilt of his head gave the answer.

_Because I can._


	2. Brittle Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guillermo del Toro is a lowly Beta, left to watch over the Omega he longed to speak with for so long. But their pleasant reunion will never last.

Fingers tapped across keyboards, across screens, and onto the desk. The wheels of the rolling chair gave only the slightest squeak of age as they rolled to and fro, from each monitor in turn. The lights were dimmed and reflected against square glasses, eyes squinting to read the tiny print across the screen.

Everything seemed to be back to normal... Heartrate had calmed down, blood pressure is alright, blood sugar was average... HCG levels rising at an appropriate rate... It was sad in a way to having to remain constant alert of the health of the patient, and he would not need this supervision if he was allowed to rest himself, instead of having to be sedated the moment he so much as twitched the wrong way.

The chair creaked as the man leaned back, letting out a sigh that sounded much louder than he had first expected. Normally he could barely hear his own thoughts in this room with dozens constantly talking and working, but he was alone.

All the others had gone to celebrate a successful conception after months of work. Every attempt during the height of heat never caught until they finally decided to have him in constant sedation to allow his body to remain relaxed at all time. They still didn't understand just why his body was working so hard against what it was born to do.

It could be about age... But most already knew that it was about stress. Not like he would ever agree with such a prospect. No, his body was just being fickle when he needed it now more than ever.

The silence was awkward at this point, and unnerving. He couldn't begin to understand how he can stand being in near complete silence...  
It was why the man slowly rose to his feet, his hand touching the golden pin on his left side. It was a sign of his allegance, and he wouldn't begin to think about what would happen if he was not chosen to stand within these ranks, yet...

Blue eyes drifted to the glass barrier that sat at the bottom and middle of the circles, acting much like a surgical theatre. It allowed constant surveilence, another thing he couldn't fathom experiencing. The bright lights use to be timed to allow the sensation of day and night, but they couldn't afford letting him be in the dark. Too many scars, too many mishaps.

Too much death.

He only needed to come down a few steps before he spotted the huddled subject, curled up into his corner again. The body was quivering just slightly, maybe cold again? Frowning just slightly, he raced down the last few steps before tapping at the controls next to the steel doors.

Raise the heat just slightly, dim the lights... Another glance into the glass tank, and the body hadn't so much as looked up at him. Well, it was already too quiet...

Turn on the microphone and speakers...

It was faint at first, a little sound coming from the speakers that surrounded the room. Sounded like a noise a dog or puppy would make. Could just be a speaker on the fritz too. But just in case, he turned the dial, making it just a little bit louder.

"...not gonna take 'em from me, nothing left to do, nothing to... not gonna..."

They were quiet ramblings, probably something that has been going on since he had awakened. They didn't turn up the speakers very often, and this was the reason why. It was always hard to hear their subject speak like this, and most had gotten comfortable with muting them to keep from being reminded that what they captured was still some sort of man.

His voice was rough, like sandpaper scraping against his throat. There was a near constant water supply beside the bed, though, a refilling bowl. It had been too much work to continously refill a basin, and they wanted to limited the amount of contact between him and the others...

The man could hear him now, with the microphone now turned up. There were three different places where they were placed, one on the left wall, one on the right, and one in an office not far away. Small speakers were set up in the high corners of the glass walls and ceiling, and it was the only way to communicate without opening the door.

It goes without saying that he wouldn't be use to the noise, and he probably didn't even notice the sole man in the room with him. He hadn’t shifted from his corner, his head still buried into his knees, as if an attempt to look as small as possible. To live in near constant fear was straining on their subject, as he could see the graying hairs from where he stood. Their kind wasn’t intended to age naturally, instead being able to last a few lifetimes over given the chance, but instead…

The man swallowed, attempting to steady his nerves. He wasn’t sure what reaction he would gain at this point, and it was almost like trying to coax a wild animal out of hiding. Being slow with his movements as if to not attract attention to himself, he walked to the left side of the cell, the far opposite of where Norman sat. This was the first chance of communication in such a long time, and he would have to be careful…

“…Norman?”

His own words blasted into his ears from feedback of Norman’s hidden microphones, ringing throughout the entire theater. What had been a whisper on the other side of the glass had turned into a screech on the inside, the speakers set so far up that he feared it could crack the glass. The reaction was immediate, even as he cringed away from the microphone.

It was a flurry of motion that he almost missed in his own pain, the subject had been jolted to his feet, only to soon collapse at the constant ringing inside the glass, going from microphone from the inside detecting the speakers, to the microphone on the outside ringing it back by its own equipment.

What could they possibly have been doing to him to have the microphone so loud…!  
In fumbling movements, the man on the outside staggered his way to the controls, still holding a hand to his ear in an attempt to block the noise. He reached out blindly with the other, searching for the volume knobs that would release them from this torment.  
It took three attempts with different knobs before he finally found the correct one, spinning it to the left until the repeating name finally stopped short.

Only then was he finally able to hear past the ringing in his ears, hearing inside the tank.

_“-more, no more, no more, no more, no more!”_

It was a twisting sound between a scream and a sob, tight with pain of being pushed to the limit and through. The words repeated over and over, sometimes broken with something only described as gibberish from the panicked subject, practically burying his head into the glass floor with his arms tight around his head to fend off the noise.

“Norman! Norman, it’s okay! I didn’t mean it, it’s okay now!” was all he could say as he rushed back to the microphone, only to watch as the hunched figure practically dragged himself into the wall, pressing against it as if he could melt into the glass. His body was shaking violently, his teeth snapped together to hold back his own screams as if they would burst his eardrums. To go from absolute silence for so long to such a painfully loud screech of his name…

It took time for him to calm down again, to pull himself out of the panicked state. The entire time, the suited man was forced into silence in order to not disturb the subject. He could just shut off the speaker, but no, he wasn’t going to let Norman think he was being abandoned again. Instead, he just watched the quivering beginning to slow, the glass soon spotted with sweat and tears that were stained an inky black.

His eyes gazed up and down across the black trails across his skin from the sweat, seeping down his cheeks as well in his tears. It began to slip from the corner of his mouth, either saliva or panicked foaming at the mouth. It wouldn’t be the first time, but that didn’t make it any easier to watch. Only once the shaking had turned into a barely detectable trembling did he carefully approach the microphone again, dropping his voice back down to the whisper.

“…Norman, it’s okay. It’s Guillermo, remember me?”

It was simple words, an attempt to reach the man that had closed himself off to everyone. He didn’t deserve attention from Norman any longer, not after scaring him so thoughtlessly. He didn’t expect much of an answer, but he was hoping to see a little bit of Norman again. His quick tongue, his smirk, hear his unique tone of voice… Even if it was to banish him from his sight, it would be enough. But there was still no answer.

And he was about to give up if it wasn’t for the soft words that quivered through the speakers.

“…c-course I ‘member you,” was the grunt, but just four words were enough to express the current tension in the room. There was anger, torment, sadness… But a touch of familiarity.

Norman didn’t speak to anyone. His still rough voice was enough to make it clear. Whenever someone would speak into the microphone, even at normal volume, he would ball himself up against the wall much like now, or be thrown into madness whenever… he would approach.

Trying to stuff the excitement that fluttered in his chest at the mumbled words, he spoke back into the mic, a little louder this time. “I know it’s been a long time since we last spoke, but it’s been busy-“ he cut off, already ashamed of his words. Of course Norman knew that it was busy.

It was always focused around him.

Constant touches, constant drugs, constant unwanted attention… It was hard to recognize the man that still crouched deep into the corner, only just starting to unwrap his arms from his head.

Then he managed to get a glimpse, a rare sight. The eyes. The real eyes. The blues that managed to cut through the locks of shaggy hair that covered most of his face, finally looking towards Guillermo. Being recognized by Norman was almost an honor, to be gazed upon by one of his position… The Omega.  
Guillermo was just a mere Beta, a second in command. There were plenty of his kind, a dime a dozen even in this crisis of their population. They were pushed around by Alphas easily, and simply were there to be the grunt work.

Omegas… They were to be revered. They were the priceless jewel of their frighteningly small race. They were the heart of the pack, and even Alphas were known to submit to their pack Omega.

But then there was the fact that being an Omega was the entire reason to Norman’s existence here at all. To repopulate their race, no matter how many times they needed it. Women of their race had presumably died out, overtaken by rough Alphas and humans. Only an Omega could breed even when male.

Guillermo’s heart sunk deep in his chest as he looked into the crystal blue eyes, as if gazing deep into his soul. He forced himself to retain his gaze with the Omega, even as a chill began to ride up his spine. Only after an appropriate amount of silence had passed that the Omega finally blinked, his body finally calm.

Guillermo released the breath that had been choking his lungs, in such a rush that it fogged the glass, which he clumsily wiped away with the sleeve of his suit. His heart picked up again just as he saw the body beginning to move, using his arms to wipe away the black remaining against his face.

Even after all of this torment, this suffering, Norman still trusted him. Only him. Even after it had been used against the Omega so many times…

The blue eyes scanned the area around them, staring into all the seats that were empty as if to make sure that they were completely alone. The tenseness was still present, his hackles still raised as if he would be forced back to the corner at any moment, but when nothing moved, he finally allowed himself to close the gap between him and Guillermo.

His posture seemed to grow straighter with every few steps, loosening the muscles that had been twitching from being prepared for an attack. Yet he still didn’t smile. He hadn’t smiled for months. Not even as he slowly sat himself a few feet away from the glass, still retaining distance.

The eyes scanned around just one more time, his jaw tightening with the ever present unease, before he finally looked back to the faithful Beta.

“Norman, is there anything I can get for you?” was the beginning of the conversation, as awkward as it was. Back when they could communicate more, this would be the opening to every conversation. He would often sneak out to fetch food, or even just give information to the war raging outside their walls.

They finally were able to relax their bodies, becoming comfortable into their environments once again. The shaggy brown hair shifted just as Norman tilted his head just slightly, the blue eyes still watching, unblinking. The ragged man sucked in a breath, as if to answer, but still hesitated. It was only after a little bit of prompting that he finally released the breath in a sigh.

“…Guillermo, there’s one thing you can do for me.”

Already, a rock was forming to the pit of his stomach.

“I can’t let him take them again.”

His chest tightened up. He had told Norman to never ask for this for a reason. The words to stop Norman, though, couldn’t come.

“I don’t care what you have to do.”

Guillermo’s head snapped to the side, a scent beginning to pass its way through the closed doors.

The office speaker. He forgot about the office speaker.

“…I need you to kill me.”

The doors opened.


	3. Sealed Lips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do not talk to the subject.  
> Do not attempt to communicate.  
> Do not believe what he has to say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter includes rape

"Norman, my darling!"

Guillermo's back pressed against the glass, as if an attempt to hide the man crouched against the ground, hearing the animalistic hiss crackling through the speakers. The stammering explanations were ignored as he watched the tall blond boldly step his way down to the tank, the smile stretching across his face to the point he feared his skin would rip.

In one hand was the half-empty bottle of champangue, and the other the long silver key to gain access into the tank. It was the only copy, the only way to access the omega inside. There were combinations and codes all across the panels, but only with the key will the door ever open.

The alpha tilted his head just slightly, his eyes glittering with some sick mixture of happiness. He practically glided down the steps, even as he heard the omega fleeing back into the corner farthest from the door. He had lost the connection with Norman already, probably all within the alpha's plan.

No one was to interact with his pet.

Guillermo could only watch as the man practically skipped up to the door, the key swinging on the chain in his hand. There was only the slightest swaying as he stood, punching in codes against the pinpads, but the reek of alcohol was more than enough of a hint to his intoxication.

"How are you feeling, my dearest? I saw you ate your meat, a treat just for you! I would have given you a few sips of this but we can't have that, now could we?" His voice was slightly slurred, his head falling to the side as he watched the red lights turn green one by one.

All he heard in response was a snarl, no words, just animalistic instinct.

The beta cringed slightly, pressing himself tighter against the glass wall. With a loud blare, the steel door finally opened up, and he was immediately blasted with the omega pheremones.

His blood ignited with a spark at the rush, his internal beast restless at the very scent. It almost made him drunk just off the scent. The scent of conception from an omega is nearly as powerful as the heat, and it came with the urge to protect the omega, to push them into a safe area and try to cover the scent the best he could.

There was other scents. Aggression, dominance, but also fear. They made his heart race, and the pull only grew stronger. It made his feet move on their own, rushing to the steel door, the only thought in his head was to protect the omega.

He already knew, though, that the alpha will not allow anything. Not as the door slammed shut into his face, nearly running straight into the steel. Hands pressed frantically against the steel before fumbling with the pinpad, even as he knew it would be no use. It never was. Even if he pounded on the door and begged, he could never disobey the alpha.

"That's no way to say hello. You should respect your alpha."

Guillermo cringed against the steel, his teeth gritting together. This is how everything started.

The speakers were still on, but his feet were frozen. He couldn't dare face the alpha like this, feeling more like he should be a worm beneath his feet. And he knew he wouldn't be able to meet Norman's gaze. He was betraying him again.

There was the sound of something ripping, and the omega had let out a warning growl. "Fiesty today, aren't you darling?" Mads whistled, and he could practically hear his grin.

"Seems like you have a bit of pent up energy... I could take you for a walk. Would you like to go for a walk?"

More tearing, more snarling, and del Toro knew that Norman would be backed into the corner at this time. He trapped himself with the alpha, but there was nowhere for him to hide, no matter how many times he spat, swore or clawed the alpha.

Guillermo tasted the blood in his mouth before he realized that he was biting his lip, chewing it as a distraction from the sounds spreading out of the speakers.

Norman had sworn at him again, then there was the sound of a slap. 

"Talkative, aren't you? Don't you know the rules? I'm sure I can think of a way to keep your mouth busy."

Then the fight began, just like always. Norman would always put up a fight no matter how tired, starved or humiliated he was. The very idea of having enough strength to fight against an alpha was unheard of, especially from an omega.

The fight didn't last long. Not as he heard Norman growl and swear, but muffled, already trapped to the ground. The sound of the belt buckle being unfastened from its loops made chills streak down his spine, and his stomach try to lurch up his throat, but he was only able to take a few short steps away in a cowardly escape until the voice boomed over the speakers.

"del Toro, I do believe you have two hours left of your shift. Don't make me have to bring you in just to make sure you don't leave."

To most people, the voice sounded calm, collected, but brash on the edges. But as the color poured off of the beta's face, his body snapped to a sudden stillness to the alpha's command.

Never defy the alpha.

That didn't mean he had to watch.

"Such a good boy..."

Gloved hands pressed to his ears, his teeth grinding against each other as he tried his pitiful attempts to block out the sounds, but they came anyway through the loud speakers. The swears that were cut off short by choking, the sound of hands trying to grab onto fabric to either gain a hold or push him away, they all were forced upon him.

"You've done better, Norman. Put a little effort in at least."

A gutteral growl, a spark of defiance, but silenced with a slap against flesh.

"No, bad. I said no teeth."

"...that's more like it."

Guillermo felt his back bump against the steel door once again, his body obeying the alpha without his permission and returning to his post, but it allowed him to huddle against it much like the omega had just minutes ago.

"Look at me, pet."

More tearing at fabric, but they were growing slower, weaker. Growls were replaced by near constant choking, and then came a whimper.

"You're such a good boy...! Maybe I'll have to reward you."

The voice was a little ragged this time, nearing the end. It never took long, but it always felt like an eternity.

The voice continued with murmurs of praise and demands, slurring with alcohol, but being sure to get the point across.

The only thing that brought him back to that world was the sound of violent coughing.

"Such a waste. I thought I trained you better than that."

Clothes were slowly pulled back together, the zipper pulled up and the buckle back in place. Only then could Guillermo allow his body to relax, taking in a breath to his stiff lungs. His heart was thundering, his adrenaline high as if he had been the one to either take or receive the exchange.

"You were such a good boy, though. You took so much! So hungry! I'll have to come more often to keep my little pet full."

The steel door hit into his back, and he had already jumped a few feet to give room for it to swing open. The scents blasted him back a few extra scents, to the point that it made his eyes water and knocked the wind right out of his lungs. His mouth went dry but he couldn't find the strength to even swallow as he quivered where he stood.

He couldn't tear his eyes away from the tall form, chest puffed and reeking in dominance. Clothes were torn and exposed skin on his legs, black leaking out of small cuts that would be worn proudly. He was wiping his hand across his chest, only to shake off a few strands of dark hair still tangled within his fingers.

"I can assure now that he will be in no mood to talk. The mic will remain off. Finish your reports for me in three hours."

The commanding voice had returned, sharpened eyes holding a trembling gaze. It was all he needed to do to relay the message and its importants before he walked past the beta without so much as a sniff in his direction. Guillermo couldn't stop himself from recoiling just slightly, head bowed and eyes on the ground.

Everyone knew that Mikkelsen could snap whoever he wanted like a twig and feel no remorse.

As long as Norman was alive.

The double doors closing was the only time that he managed to suck in a breath, letting it out with a shudder. Only then did he hear the sound of choking over the speakers.

Not at all prepared for what he was about to see, the beta dashed to the glass, dread pouring into his body.

The omega was stuffing his own fingers down his throat desperately, black dripping down his cheeks and his face twisted in pain. His jaw was uncomfortably stretched wide as he gave stuttering gags and gasps for air, but refused to remove his fingers until he was successful.

Only until he had nearly choked himself did he finally find success, and vomited up the disgusting black sludge that splattered all across the once prestine floor. Norman only allowed himself a staggering breath before another wave of the mess joined in the growing puddle, expelling as much as he could of the alpha.

He was trembling on the floor, slouched on his hands and knees and visibly shaking from the strain. Black was leaking down from his shaggy hair from hands that ripped too hard and too deep, and there were openings in his skin. They were small circular cuts, three on each of his sides, precise and identcal that still drained out a bit of the fluid that he had been filled with.

Force feeding his body.

The awkward bulges under his skin was beginning to smooth out, absorbing the sludge. The oral ingestion was just an added bonus.

Another load of black sprayed onto the ground, drenching his bottom jaw. Small clumps stll slipped from his clenched teeth, twisting in unspoken agony, yet he didn't make a sound. He still refused to let the alpha see how much he was suffering, but now that he was gone...

His twitching body slumped into the growing pool, landing on his side and his cheek and hair becoming filthy.

Gloved hands pressed slowly against the glass, as if one wrong move will make his brittle body collapse upon itself. It was hard to watch the man that had defied all who opposed him now turn into a heap of quivering pain. Every breath was a pained pant, movement was near impossible, and even if he could, he will forever be trapped within the glass.

He was deaf to the noises of the machines that surrounded them, blaring out alerts to his heartrate and stress, knowing full well that he could do nothing to help him but simply be close by.

Then he saw his hand twitch, blindly reaching out into the puddle and coating his fingers with the thick liquid. It tensed, clutching at the liquid until he used it as a slight leverage to lean up against the glass. His eyes opened, searching, frantic for someone.

As if called upon, Guillermo abandoned his post beside the door and raced to the other end, to the far corner where the omega was huddled to the glass. Any sound that came from his own lips was deaf to him as his hands pressed against the glass, only for Norman to place one muddied hand against his own.

His panting was still heavy, black dripping down his blue eyes in his silent pain, and their eyes locked together. It attempted to soothe him, and the calming sensation was flooding into his body knowing that the omega wasn't terribly hurt, but the look in his eyes... A silent plea.

Then his other hand began to press against the glass, and he began to write.

2+ 4O2N...

03H41C?

His brows furrowed in confusion. Was it supposed to be some kind of code? He glanced back into the sky blue eyes, and he was glared back at with brimming frustration.

The black-coated hand smeared at the mixture of numbers and letters furiously, before trying again, this time slower and in shaking writing.

C14H30N2O4+2

It was a formula.

It took only a moment before a ball of ice claimed his stomach and his heart froze along with it.

"...Norman, I can't," was the grunt that he knew Norman wouldn't be able to hear but wouldn't listen anyway. "You know that I can't," he tried again and looked back to the eyes, only to be frozen in place. It wasn't furious. It wasn't a death glare that would kill him where he knelt beside the glass.

It was just quiet.

A sad, weak plea that he already knew wouldn't be answered just like the many times he asked.

The blackened hand slipped down from the glass, and the man soon was left huddling against the glass, already pulling himself into a ball. He angled himself to his back being pressed against the glass, smearing more of the black oil against it. Someone will eventually come in to clean up the mess, but the mess will keep coming back for him.

His hand still by the chemical formula finally slid its way across, bleeding out the letters and numbers and smearing them away. It was dangerous for them to know.

No one else but them will know what the formula would be for, but it was still deadly, at least for del Toro. They wouldn't dare harm Norman now that he had conceived, but it only prolonged his misery.

The audio went quiet, the panting finally calming down, and the body no longer moved. The omega was tired and needed rest, and the monitor blaring was coming to a hault. Norman had shut himself out again, dismissing the beta just like the others.

There was a sigh of defeat that frosted the glass, and it was with slow steps that he backed away from the omega to let him rest. He still had the reports to work on, and he could at least give Norman some peace and quiet.

The chair squeaked with his weight and the wheels squealed with it as they began to roll from one screen to the other, and the only sound was once again a light tapping. But then it haulted.

A drawer was pulled open, and a pencil rolled into sight. The black glove grasped hard onto the pencil, tighened, before forcing himself to relax his grasp. A piece of paper was ripped from the bottom of the report, and he scribbled down the senseless numbers and letters that will either save or destroy them both. It was then tucked away into the suit coat, while the combination swirled.

C14H30N2O4 +2


	4. Lock It Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a reason to why the alpha does not allow anything to touch his prized possession.

Locks clicked into place one at a time, the stainless steel checked a multitude of times to ensure that they are locked up tightly. One reached forward with their gloved hands and grabbed onto the chain, giving it a quick pull for a test of its strength. Another was redoing the loops of the leather straps that held down the motionless body to the cold table, tightening to the best of their abilities.

"Are the harnesses in place?" was the cold voice that came from the corner of the isolated room, the sanitized walls so white that they seemed to be glowing. A multitude of voices chimed back, assessing that every possible restraint was as tight as they could make it, to the point that some feared that it may harm the body beneath.

"...Get started. I want this done soon."

Men soon surrounded the steel table in the center of the room, clustering around it in one mass of white plastic from their full body quarrentine suits. They had transparent plastic to be able to properly see, and the gas mask beneath helped ensure that they had no reason to be outside the suits. The suits themselves were thick and uncomfortable, almost like rubber. The gloves were even worse. It was a wonder how they could even pick up a scalpel, but they had to. No one wanted to face the commander when they have made a mistake.

"I said _move_!"

The men separated immediately, practically flinging themselves across the small infirmary for their instruments. One was fidling with the large monitor on the wall, turning it on and trying to tune it into the right settings. The largeness was to ensure that they had the best magnifications as possible. They could not afford to make a mistake.

One man had turned back to their patient, beginning to string an oxygen mask around his head to ensure that he will be under sedation for as long as they needed. He tightened the elastic, then opened the eyes with his fingers and flashed in a penlight. No reaction. He was truly unconscious.

It didn't help that it had taken two doses to finally bring him down, even with how weak he had become. Using anesthetic to keep him asleep would only work so long as his body was fighting against it, dulling the potency. They had to switch between drugs often but they were running out of options. In this world, they could only do so much.

Another was beginning to swab across the abdomen of the subject, peeling away the sticky black that stuck to his body, as well as layers of filth and grime. The toned abdomen had now concaved upon itself, which was worrying. He should be gaining more than enough weight by now... But he was still so thin...

* * *

"If they dare do something to him...-"

"Commander, he will be fine..."

The two voices were quiet on the other side of the wall, separated only by the thick one-way mirror that acted as the wall. They were a few feet higher than the infirmary level, able to look down upon the still body laid upon the steel table yet still be able to look at the monitor that was on the opposite wall. Even having a very clear view of the subject wasn't enough for their commander.

The alpha was pacing from one side of the mirror to the other, shoulders tensed and his body on the verge of striking out. He could feel the testosterone from where he stood, along with a hint of desperation. Mads wanted to get inside the infirmary, he needed to be with him...! But he couldn't. For the sake of Norman, he couldn't.

A clenched hand smacked against the glass, but did little other than make it quiver slightly. Mads' breaths were in soft puffs at this point, and like a caged animal he soon resumed his pacing. Guillermo watched only from the corner of his eye, not able to face the man without possibly being the new subject of his frustration.

His teeth were gritting together and his jaw was clenched. His hands were soon forced behind his back to keep himself in check, but his knuckles were blistering white. Guillermo swallowed hard and forced his eyes back through the mirror and to the subject.

The silence was agonizing at this point, and it was only broken when Mads began to pace again, only stopping when he watched the scientists beginning to move or speak. His eyes were throwing daggers at the speakers in the corner of the rooms, as if they could somehow force the scientists to go faster.

"...Commander Mikkelsen, he will be alright. You know Norma-"

"Do not dare call him by that name!"

The snap silenced the lowly beta in an instant, and soon he found himself staring at the floor, nearly pressing himself against the wall in an attempt to look stronger. The aggression was rising again, and he knew it was because he made that mistake. He forced himself to swallow his instinctual fears and became quiet again.

The pacing continued. The workers were taking their time, and only now were they beginning their procedure after making certain that everything was ready.

Only then did he glance back up, slowly to make sure he did not catch the attention of the alpha. Even Guillermo was beginning to be nervous at this point. After years of knowing the omega, he had never seen him this... weak. Eyes carefully crossed over the still body on the table, and his heart clenched.

Once broad shoulders brimming with power were starting to grow boney, his collarbones profound. Ribs were slowly pushing against the dirty skin, and it was obvious that Norman had lost his own wish to keep himself clean. There were still black patches that covered his body, crackling like dried paint. Bulging biceps had shrunk, his cheeks sunken in... Even his skin color was beginning to pale.

Maybe Norman would get what he wanted after all.

Nothing they were doing had been working, after all. Forcefeedings were only vomited back up, sometimes not even intentionally. All the omega would do was sit in his corner. He no longer moved even when Mikkelsen approached and did not respond to Guillermo any longer. He made no sound, no twitch...

He didn't even fight the staff when they brought him into the infirmary. All he did was stare at them... Stare with those blank, glassy and dead steel blue eyes...

"Commander Mikkelsen, we will have visual soon."

"Don't make me wait."

"...yes sir."

Guillermo saw the head doctor beginning to press his instrument against the thinning stomach of the omega, and immediately saw the tremor that twitched through Norman's body. There was a soft growl that managed to catch the microphone but was ignored by all except Guillermo. This happened every time they did a routine evaluation...

They knew that an omega would be sensitive, that instincts would run high and touching a carrying omega's stomach was suicide. But now all Norman could do was twitch within his confines as his body begged to be able to move and free himself, keep the litter safe from those prodding hands.

The wand that he held only pressed deeper into the skin, to the point that he was sure it would be painful.

The omega's hands were beginning to twitch at this point, a few fingers extending before reaching like they were going to grab hold of something or claw at his attacker.

The next was the heavier breathing, a shallow pant that forced his ribs to rise higher and it twisted his face in pain. They wouldn't stop, though. If they stopped every time that Norman was uncomfortable, they would never have gotten to this stage in the first place.

The screen was up now, but he didn't care to look. All he could do was watch as three men soon took their positions, two beginning to bind up the hands with cloth and to hold the arms securely at his side while another one had his hands upon his forehead, making sure that he could not jolt up. The head doctor had not even passed a glance to his patient, instead keeping his focus upon the screen.

They ignored the twitches and growls as if he wasn't even there. He may as well not be. All he was now was the incubator.

The wand froze on the stomach, the first time it had stopped moving since he had begun. There was an awkward stillness within the doctor as he stared up at the screen, and it was enough for Mikkelsen to stop his pacing, soon joining Guillermo against the glass.

Finding himself not able to watch the scene unfold before him any longer as he was becoming sick to his stomach, he instead watched their commander. His bright blue eyes were locked upon the screen, and he could have sworn that Mads had stopped breathing just for a few moments. They both have experienced this enough times to know what this must mean.

"...Mikkelsen?"

The voice was quieter this time, a bit unsure.

"What do you see."

It was more of a command than a question, barely able to escape through his clenched teeth. His hands were now pressed against the glass, as if trying to will his way through to see for himself. There was silence for a bit longer than he was comfortable with before the doctor spoke again.

"...There's five. And they're developing just fine."

_...Five?_

Guillermo felt the color drain from his face while Mads couldn't help but glow with near instant pride.

"del Toro, did you hear that?!" It was real excitement in his voice, something that had been lacking for so long that it made him wince. This stage was so rare for both of them to experience, to actually have positive confirmation... And every time it went the same way.

"Norman, darling! You've done so good! I'm so proud of you, Norman!"

Mads had a grin across his face, one that actually seemed genuine and wouldn't be from the suffering of others. His eyes were shining brilliantly, and he couldn't look away from the screen. His face was nearly pressed against the glass at this point, and his body was faintly trembling.

"Norman, you've done it!"

He did it. He really did it. He managed to hold on long enough to make the commander happy, to give him the false hope...

There was soft chatter on the other side of the glass, and they seemed to be trying to find the genders. They were arguing whether or not it was too early to technically tell, but it seemed like they were taking bets. It was as if a powerful weight had been lifted from everyone's shoulders...

And collapsed onto Guillermo.

Norman...

"...They all appear healthy..." was the murmur on the other side, and another heap of nauseating excitement came from the words. Mads was still at the glass, the smile so wide that it could split his cheeks but he probably wouldn't care. He finally was getting what he wanted, what they waited so long to get...!

But then Guillermo caught something from the corner of his eyes. A scalpel had fallen off a tray, accidentally brushed against, before tumbling its way beneath the table. It was a thicker table with drawers underneath to hold their instruments, and thus didn't have a lot of room on the bottom.

"I got it," a voice muttered, and the worker who had been binding Norman's right hand soon knelt down. It was then that he watched the fingers beginning to twitch back to life, and then a few tears in the cloth wrapped too tight... It was unfolding now, beginning to flow onto the tile floor. No one seemed to care, as they already had Norman secured.

The doctor was now on his knees, trying his best to reach beneath the table, but the gloves were just too thick. There was a grunt of annoyance, and Guillermo thought that he was giving up...

Then he saw the skin.

He had taken off the glove.

Horror had stunned Guillermo to where he couldn't find the strength to utter a noise as he knelt back down and began to retrieve the scalpel.

"Doc, where do you want me to put this? To sterilize?"

"Just put it in the tray, I'll-..."

That's when they realized the foolish mistake as he began to rise up from his knees, his uncovered hand at his side and still holding the scalpel. Mads gasped beside him, and the doctor had stiffened to a board with collective realization.

"...For god's sake, get him away! Get him away! Get him out!" Mads commanded on the microphone, grabbing it off the desk to blast his voice as loud as it could manage.

But it was already too late.

Like a viper, the unbound hand lashed out and grabbed onto the young man's wrist to the point that they could hear the bones audibly crunch.

His scream of pain was drowned out by the others immediately scrambling around the room, to drawers and lockers that lined the far wall. But they wouldn't make it in time.

Because he already saw the eyes.

Pure black, soulless eyes that now stared at his prey as his hand seemed to crush farther onto the other man's wrist, before the black tendrils whipped out from his wrists. They latched onto the skin, connecting to veins with deadly precision and already the black was being pushed into his veins.

The scream only intensified as the scientists were arming themselves with sedatives, while others were sliding out rifles from the lockers. They never went without them and this was exactly the reason why.

Multiple voices were shouting on the other side at this point, some were trying to tell the poor soul to try to escape or run, others were commanding to get behind him so they had a clear shot.

"No!! Don't touch him!"

Mads' explosion beside him practically threw him to the ground in a trembling heap, pressing his hands to his ears in an attempt to block out the alpha's command. This was all going wrong, everything was going wrong...!

By now the screaming was turning into begging, and then began to fade as the black was forced through his veins, traveling up the arteries before reaching just where Norman needed it to be.

The brain.

All at once, the man turned silent and the eyes went blank. His arms dropped to his side and the head slumped forward. One of the scientists thought that he could still save his comrad and ran up to try to tear him away from the Omega...

Until the scalpel was thrust into his chest, easily cutting through the flimsy suits.

Guillermo watched it all unfold before him, bit by bit. He watched as the black tendrils traveled out of the hand and forcing their way through the opening of the suit, and then beginning to travel their own way to the brain... The first victim had left the scalpel in the chest of the second, and was now beginning to undo the restraints bit by bit.

The stabbed man had stumbled to the ground, trying to tear out the tendrils from his own chest but it had already been done. His cries for mercy were cut off just the same and he fell still. Just for a moment, though. Because right before the scientists' eyes, he too stood and began to pick at the restraints.

Mads had seen enough.

"Do not shoot! I repeat, do not fucking shoot! You shoot him, you die!" The alpha had yanked open the door at this point, sprinting out of the tiny room, but del Toro couldn't look back. All he could do was watch as the restraints were pulled apart one by one, and the man was slowly pulling himself up to a sitting position.

The eyes had become black holes, the inky liquid beginning to seep from his eyelids and drip down his face. It was only the start of the transformation, but he could see the coldness upon the face of the beast. With ease, he grabbed the restraints upon his legs and yanked them free, breaking the leather and crushing through steel with inhuman ease.

Only once he slowly stood up did he finally see what Norman was becoming.

Handprints were inking through his skin, trying to push desperately out of his body. They covered his flesh, and the tendrils began to escape through the surface of the prints. They were like snakes upon his command, twitching and snapping around his body. They were beginning to curl their way around his right arm that was still connected to the first victim, sinking into the flesh and beginning to draw the red blood from the body.

It fed the beast easily, draining the man that was now under his control. Within moments he had drained the body and let it become limp within his hold, yet forced it to stay upright. The only reason to why he still held the body was already apparent.

"Stay back!" one of the men shouted, and a few were leveling their weapons. They were now pressing themselves against the far wall in an attempt to gain as much distance between them and the beast, but it was already no use.

Not as Norman took a step forward, then another. He rotated his shoulders to work out the rigid muscles and flexed his hands. Tendrils were dancing around him, pulling along his victims like a chain leash. The black eyes held no warmth, no light. Only death.

The distance was closing between them now, and one of them had to break.

 _BANG_.

A shot to the shoulder, spraying out black against the tile floor, but he didn't even flinch. Only stepped closer. There was a few feet between them.

 _BANGBANG_.

One nicked his cheek, the other hitting the right arm that connected him to his victims, but he didn't falter in his steps. Black was washing down his face in oil streaks, and began to dribble down his skin from the tendrils. It dripped onto the floor, a trail that was only growing closer.

The left arm reached out now, the black dripping from his fingertip just as the tendrils reached out. They delicately caressed the barrel of the rifle closest, pulling it before aiming it straight to his chest. A challenge. An excuse.

A dare.

With one final step, he pulled the barrel against his flesh and stared into the eyes of the terrified man. His hand grasped upon the cold steel, now, beginning to move his fingers down and then grasping the shivering hand.

Two things happened at once. First was the blast as the door was kicked open to the small infirmary. The second was the red that exploded against the glass, then came the second layer of black.

_"No!!"_

It was hard to see through the splatters of blood on the right side of the room, but he could hear the bullets. They were tearing through flesh, but so was Norman. There was audible ripping, screams cut short, and bodies were dropping.

Mads was standing on the left side of the room, momentarily frozen by the blood bath that was coating the sterilized walls. His hands had already reached back for his assault rifle, but even he seemed to be horrified. "Don't touch him!" was the order he tried to shout over the sound of gunfire, but it was lost within the screams.

Everything was just getting coated in the blood, it was everywhere...! So much blood! Guillermo forced his face into his hands, his shoulders shaking as he was forced to listen to the hail of gunfire and agonized screams.

Norman, why...

* * *

How dare they touch him.

How _dare_  they touch his Norman!

Blue eyes glinted with murderous intent as the commander lunged into the battle, even as bullets were catching onto his clothes and punctured into flesh. They were mere stings compared to what he would do to those who dared to harm his omega.

All he could focus on was the man that was still standing, somehow, and the tendrils that were beginning to snake their way from one man to the next, building up a wall of men behind him to barricade himself. He could see the bullets passing through the walls of bodies, and black was splattering across the floor in buckets.

But there was also a tidal wave of red. Bodies were spreading across the ground, some trying their best to slip away and others already claimed by death. Weapons were scattered on the floor, but there was still a few trying to fight.

A tendril whipped out of the omega, wrapping around one of the men's throat and violently throwing him to the ground. Already he could see that it was only to antagonize them, not to kill. If he had wanted to kill, all he would have needed was to tear the head clean from his neck. All this was just a reason for them to...

"Norman!" was the shout that managed to gain the attention of the omega, who seemed to flinch at the tone.

But then he watched those broad shoulders turn, then managed to catch a view of the eyes... Those pure black eyes... Where were the blues that he adored to see? Where was the anger, the adrenaline? Where was the life?

Taking the opportunity of distraction, a few of the men managed to scurry aross the floor for safety. This was their only moment of escape with their lives while the two Tainted were distracted. One managed to slip through the upright bodies, sprinting past Mads for the open doorway. He let him go. There wasn't a gun in his hands, he wasn't guilty for touching his omega.

"Norman, what are you doing! Stop this instant!" Mads hissed. For once would the omega listen to him! Would he just realize that all of this was just to protect him!

The black eyes narrowed back at him and black was dripping down from the corner of his lips. He couldn't clearly see the injuries with the blockade of bodies, but his skin was growing paler. There was so much of his blood everywhere...

"...No."

The voice was a croak and scarcely above a whisper. But the intent was there. The omega was denying an order from the alpha. His head swung back around to the remaining two scientists that were pressed against the wall. All he had to do was take another step forward, raising his hand as he prepared to end the lives for his own revenge. The same men that had kept Norman alive were now to die by his own hand...!

 _BANG_.

Norman jolted. His body froze, and there was a splatter.

The entire room stilled except for the sound of liquid dripping down to the ground.

Then the bodies dropped to the ground, the tendrils falling apart and releasing their binds. They had already been long dead, their eyes blank and rolled back. But now the boundary had collapsed.

And revealed the gaping wound through his back, and light poored through the other side, where the trembling medic was still holding the shotgun.

Norman fell to his knees first, splashing into the pools of black. His upperhalf teetered a little bit in a vain attempt to stay upright, only to fall forward.

Arms were there waiting for him, catching him before he could fall into the pools of blood and oil. The black clashed against soldier camo, soaking through the fabric with unnatural ease. Hands desperately pulled the body into his arms, rolling it so that it faced upwards. Black eyes were slowly bleeding out, and dulling blues were left in their wake.

"Get that fucking doctor in here!" was the snarl that he could barely remember saying, not as he stared down at the bleeding man within his arms.

His body should have been stronger than this... This wound should not exist. It shouldn't have done more than scratch the surface of the skin. Yet he had been so weak, and he just couldn't...!

"Norman, why?! Why do you do this to me?!" It was supposed to be an order, a demand from an alpha, but it came out in the middle of a sob. It was a sound he could barely recognize coming from himself, and the horrible pain was startling. This wasn't supposed to happen... They had already been through so much. Why did Norman want to throw it away!

His hand trembled as he reached down and cupped the cheek of the omega, who only flinched at his touch. No, Norman, don't be afraid of me... Let me take care of you...

Mads lost focus on the world around them, as calls for medic echoed through the infirmary. He didn't even know who was still alive to treat the wounds. Would they even be able to treat it?

A grunt of pain came from the man he held, and another layer of agony collapsed onto his shoulders. Don't do this to me... "Look at me. Eyes on me." It was as close to an order as he could manage, and his heart swelled as the blues managed to catch his gaze. "There you go, keep looking at me. I'll take care of you. I will help you get better."

The corner of Norman's mouth was twitching, even a black flowed from his lips. His thumb swept across the edges, catching a few of the droplets before they could roll down his cheek. Where was the doctor, why was it taking so long...! If only he knew that he was laying right behind him, openly bleeding out from the slash through his stomach. But he didn't need Norman to know that.

He had to protect his omega from the rest of the world. Protect his litter, his... his family...

Rough scar tissue lied beneath his fingers against his throat, each finger falling into the crevaces of teeth marks made long ago. Just hang on, Norman...

Finally the omega managed to give a slight smirk, the eyes looking up at him. They were clearing, like he could finally see him. A bit of hope fluttered inside of him, that Norman was coming back to him. Words were rushing up his throat, an attempt to tell Norman how proud he was of his strength...

Until the black sludge was spat into his face, splattering against his cheek.

"...Fuck you."

The smile covered in black fluid was haunting, and pride was sparking within those blue eyes. As if he had won.

Norman won.

A multitude of hands managed to grab a hold of the broken body within his arms without so much as a warning, and the head was pulled from his hands. His eyes tried to follow the omega as he had been pulled up into the arms of the scientists, but all he could see was the dripping black that now was falling to the ground from the wounds.

They took Norman away from him.

His omega had...

A soft sound beside him managed to turn his head, only to see the trembling man stuffed within the corner. He was clutching the gun still within his arms.

* * *

Black gloved hands touched against the open door, watching as they rushed the body out into the hall, already barking out orders to each other to take him to the control room. It was the only place where they could keep Norman in isolation to try to seal up his wounds.

Some chunks of black flesh had fallen out every now and then, leaving a trail onto the white floor. There were shoeprints from those who had stepped within the blood, handprints spreading on the wall for when they had to adjust their grip.

He hoped that this would be the end. For Norman to die. That they would let him go... Not try to keep his body alive to incubate. Just let him go.

The hand pressed slowly against the door, and it soon clicked behind him. It would be best to leave the commander to his thoughts, sitting within pools of black and red and surrounded by bodies. 

And as he heard the screams barely muffled through the door, he knew that it was all Mikkelsen will ever know. Blood and bodies.


	5. Important Update

Hello everyone!

Yeah, this fic is still here. And it’s currently rotting in my notebook. And I know that there are (somehow) people waiting for this to be updated. But I’ve hit a bit of a snag.

With all the information coming out about the game, about the characters and the actual true name of Norman’s character, and with just thinking about the project in general, I came to three different options.

1\. Continue on the fic as I had originally planned  
2\. Start over the fic with a different origin story, maybe without the ABO aspect, but still following the same story line  
3\. Start over and take in the information of the recent trailers, and work from there

Let me know. I have a computer now, so that means updates could happen easier and faster. I have notebooks filled with notes from the original plot, both ABO and without.

And for those who are waiting, I love all of you and appreciate everyone who has been sending kudos or commenting on any of my works. I have a tough time with my depression, and I honestly think my work is shit unless told otherwise. Not fishing for compliments, but just know that every single comment I see brightens my day and helps me trudge on.

Thank you! <3 I don’t intend to give up on this fic without a fight, I just need help from you guys for a clearer direction.

-J


End file.
